"Good morning, class. Please get your textbooks and turn to page 50."
I yawned as I turned the pages on my book. Man, classes start way too early.
"Miss Valentine, is my class too boring for you that even just five minutes since we started you're already sleepy?"
"Uh-oh, red head. Mr. Anderson is pissed at you right now."
"Shut it, Rod," I half whisper-shouted at Rodrigo.
I stood up and shook my head, "No, sir. I'm really sorry about that."
"A simple sorry won't cut it, Valentine. I want you to sing a whole song in front of the class later before the bell rings. This serves as your punishment and a lesson to everyone else."
"Yes, Mr. Anderson."
I sighed as I took my seat.
Aaarrrgggghhhhh!!! I don't know how to sing. I don't even know if people can tolerate my voice if I sing. Gaaahhhh!
"Chloe, right?"
I looked up to the guy who just talked to me and nodded. He is a brown-haired boy with fair skin and thin lips.
"I'm Jason, by the way. And a tip for you later, choose a song that you're really familiar with and can connect to the most. It's easier to deal with that stage fright if you can isolate the people from yourself through feeling the song."
"Thanks for the tip. Now, attention to Mr. Anderson or you'll end up like me."
Through my periphery, I see that he smiled at me before he turned back his attention to the lesson being discussed.
Now, what to sing? I kept on going through the very few songs I know and am familiar with but everytime I come close to a decision, I end up saying not to sing it. Choosing a song is more difficult than I thought it would be.
"Clo," Rod called but his eyes still focused on Mr. Anderson.
"Hmm?"
"Worried about later?"
"Kind of, yeah."
"You'll be great, I know it."
"Thanks. What to sing though? I don't need more embarrassment for today."
"How about that song you always write in your notebooks? Something about a child slowing down?"
"Vienna? Well, I guess that's alright."
"You love that song and you know every word of it. You even have the kind of voice for that, so go for that song."
"Yeah. I guess you're right. Thanks, dude."
Five minutes before the bell rings, Mr. Anderson called my attention. He gestured to the front with his hands and said that it's time for me to sing. I inwardly groaned. I was kind of hoping that he forgot about it, but no. He had to have a good memory that remembers every punishment he gives.
I stood up and tried my best to be nonchalant despite the fact that my knees are wobbly from all the nervous energy gathering inside me. I walked to the front of the class, put my brave face on, and faced them all with my unreadable expression.
"Uhhhhh..."
"Sir!"
Rod raised his right hand when he called our teacher's attention.
"Yes, Mr?"
"Montez, sir."
"Ah, yes. What is it?"
"Can I help her sir? I mean I'll play my guitar as she sings? To make it more entertaining, sir."
"Do you have a guitar with you?"
He took out his guitar from its case and showed it to Mr. Anderson who then nodded and indicated that he should go in front too. Blond stood up and smilingly walked towards me, raising his guitar at me.
"What are you doing?"
"Easing up your tension?"
"Uhhh, thanks."
"What song?"
"Hmm. Play anything you like, just make sure I'm familiar with it. I trust you, for now at least."
He smiled and struck those all too familiar chords, the ones that could bring me to tears if it weren't in this type of situation. At least he's here playing for me, it helps me hold on to that feeling of safety and comfort he brings.
"You know me too well, blond."
Back when I was a child
Before life removed all the innocence
My father would lift me high
And dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around 'til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure, I was loved
I was away from this class.
I'm back to those good old days when papa was there for me whenever I fell down and cried, papa, holding me and spinning me around whenever he comes home, papa, coddling me if mama got mad at me for breaking her things. I miss papa, but I know he was needed elsewhere, somewhere I cannot go to yet. Papa, if you can hear this now, I am happy that you are the father that I was born with and I just want to say that I love you. I don't seem to have said it enough when you were here, but now I know how important it is to tell you how much I love you. I love you, papa, forever and always, in heart, mind and soul.
I heard clapping and shouting. I opened my eyes and all I saw was a blur. My eyes cleared after a while and I saw my classmates clapping, smiling ear to ear at me. I looked at Rod who was still at my side, mouth agape, looking shocked, from what, I don't know. He seemed to have recovered from his shock because he then smiled at me and afforded to clap despite the bulk of his guitar. I smiled at all of them, not knowing what to do.
"Ehem." Mr. Anderson cleared his throat, effectively silencing the whole class.
"Thank you for that, Miss Valentine. You have a wonderful voice. Mr. Montez, thanks for that accompaniment. I hope you excel at that field."
"Thank you, sir."
"Thanks."
Rod and I replied simultaneously. We walked towards our seats and fixed all our things, ready to bolt out of the room.
"Class, don't forget your assignment about the world war. Dismissed."
We both passed our classmates who kept on saying we were great and all, beautiful voice, nice guitar skills, blah blah. We smiled and exited the room as fast as we could. Once outside, we ran, turned around a corner, and ended up at the school garden.
We stood silent for a few minutes then burst out laughing. We were lauging at the silliness of it all. Both of us never liked the spotlight, but I am thankful that he would go out of his comfort zone just to relieve my nervousness. If it wasn't for him, I would have fainted before I even got a word out of that song.
"Hey, Rod?"
"Hmm?"
"Thanks."
He just smiled that boyish smile of his and nodded. We were sitting on the grass and enjoying yet another sunset. I have always loved sunsets, for what reason, I cannot tell.
"Help."
I heard a girl's voice call out, soft but heard all the same.
"Rod, did you hear that?"
"Yes."
We scanned the whole area of the garden, waiting for that girl's voice again.
"Someone, please. Help."
We followed where the voice came from and ended up on a bush. We looked at each other, question and worry etched on our faces.
"Umm, hello?"
"Help me, please. Please."
We stepped closer and peeked over the bush, and there we paled as we saw a little girl, bloody and crying.
